Crystal Lake was the Point of Origin
by Traitor of All Traitors
Summary: Read about the origin of our favorite, hockey mask-wearing, machete-'wielding' killer. He is in a class of killers by himself, with the dream demon beneath him.


Creation began on 02-20-09

Creation ended on 02-24-09

Friday the 13th

Crystal Lake was the Point of Origin

A/N: Looking up Pamela Voorhees on the Wikipedia, I noticed that it didn't say where she gave birth to the biologically/supernaturally-immortal Jason Voorhees and I never watched the original film or the remake (yet). So this story, I dedicate to her and Jason. P.S., after some looking around on the calendar of an iPod, going backwards through time, the thirteenth of June, 1946 was actually a Thursday, if we're talking real world time and not fictional world time. Please, review later.

She had a bad feeling about being here at the camp of Crystal Lake. It wasn't the greenery or the lake itself that worried her. It was the fact that she had to come here even though she was already nearing her due date, her belly slightly-rounded and heavy with the little child she was carrying beneath her flesh, and because she needed to get away from her abusive spouse, Elias. As much as she found her usual dislike of her lover, she didn't want to despise the child she was carrying. Before she could even see its face, she had loved it as it grew and grew every day. It was always with her and she always had company.

_One of the reasons I had to get away from that jerk is 'cause I was afraid he'd do something terrible to you, dear,_ she thought, placing her left hand onto her belly. _I don't want to lose you to anybody or anything that might hurt you._

She suddenly felt a jolt to her hand. A kick, really, from the baby inside her, as though it were responding to her feelings of fear. She gave it a small smile before picking up her bag to go into the camp grounds where she would spend most of the five weeks before she had to go home.

The day was Friday the thirteenth, the day of bad luck to all that believed it to be true. Even Pamela herself believed it to be true, mainly due to Elias hitting her one time on a Friday not so long ago. Only four days into the first week, and she avoided much of any problems, focusing on just one thing: Her growing child and the day she'd get to meet it face-to-face. Being antisocial for most of her life after she attended high school, she never tried to socialize with any of the others around the camp, seeing them as bullies or a possible danger to her child, so she spent most of her time in the girls' cabin, laying on her bottom bunk, hands on her belly to feel baby as it continued to grow inside.

Knock, knock!

She gasped, hearing somebody at the door. Then, it opened up as a woman slowly stepped in, carrying a wrapped blanket in her arms as she sat down on the bottom bunk opposite of hers.

"Umm…I've seen you a bit, but I've never taken a chance to talk to you, ma'am," she heard the girl speak up, taking her attention off her stomach and looking at her now. "Oh, well…"

There was a small, pregnant pause between them, and Pamela took in all features of the girl: She looked like she was already in her twenties, was an Asian-American-looking beauty, and was looking at her. Unsure of how to respond to her, she simply uttered, "Are you here to taunt me?"

"No," the woman answered. "I just… I just wanted to talk to you. Oh, where are my manners? Sorry. I'm Yue… Yue Dante. Though, people often call me Dante because of my father."

"Dante, then," Pamela uttered. "I'm Pamela. Pamela Sue Voorhees."

"Pamela…that's such a pretty name for a very pretty, young lady. It's nice to make your acquaintance, Ms. Voorhees."

"It's actually Mrs. Voorhees."

"Oh? Wow. I'm sorry, I didn't know you were married."

"Ooh!" She gasped, placing her hands firmer onto her belly.

"Are you okay? Do you need a doctor?"

"No. The baby was just kicking. Um…do you want to feel?"

"Is it…okay for me to?"

"Uh-huh."

Dante slowly approached her, her right hand stretched out and slowly descending to set atop the taut, shirt-covered stomach, feeling the baby move inside.

"I, uh… You're a very, very lucky woman," she told Pamela.

"Um…thank you," she responded. "Nobody has ever told me that before."

She awoke to the sounds of sheets rustling and a voice groaning or moaning. Dante turned on the light and noticed Pamela, turned her right side facing away, sobbing quietly. Looking around, she saw nobody else around, guessing that the other girls were hanging with the boys in their cabin doing God-knows-what while it was still the day of bad luck.

"Pamela?" She asked, getting up and approaching her. "Pamela, what's wrong?"

Pamela turned her head over at Dante and sobbed, "It's hurts!"

She removed the blanket and saw what was hurting her: She had gone into labor and her nightgown's bottom was soaked, meaning her water had broken at some point.

"Look, Pamela," she panicked, "you're gonna be fine. I'm gonna go get the doctor and some help, okay? Just wait here for me."

As she turned to leave, she felt something grab her arm. It was Pamela.

"Please…don't leave me," she cried.

"But…you need a doctor," she tried to reason with her calmly.

"Please…" She begged, groaning as another contraction came.

_I guess I have no choice, _thought Dante, as she helped the girl onto her back on the bunk. _I'll deliver her baby for her._

She removed her soaked panties and checked how far along she was, recalling what little experience she could learn from her own mother, who had experience in this sort of thing. But what she also noticed was that her birthing canal looked rather bruised, which may have been part of her pain and not the labor itself.

"You're doing alright, Pamela," she praised her, seeing that the baby was now crowning. "The baby's starting to crown."

"Urgh!" She groaned, grabbing onto the sides of the bunk. _I never thought this could hurt so much!_

She felt something, probably the baby, squirming through a long, organic, tube-like construct that was her womb. It pretty much mirrored a little of how she always had to go to the bathroom several times a day. Or when Elias would…make her… No, she wouldn't think of those memories, for they pained her.

"Okay, when I tell you, get ready to push, okay?"

Pamela, with more tears falling from her eyes, nodded as Dante set her own hands near her canal and the emerging head of the child.

"Okay, push," she instructed her, carefully trying to extract it as the mother-to-be tried to do as she was told to, finding it harder than it felt. "Good, keep pushing."

After a minute, and a loud scream from Pamela, a crying infant was present. Weak from the birthing pains, but also concerned for her newborn, Pamela, who had lied down to near-falling asleep, brought herself back up to see her baby.

"My…baby," she said to Dante, who was wrapping up the infant in a spare blanket.

Dante would've cut the umbilical cord, except she didn't have a pair of scissors, so she would just have to wait until later to get rid of the afterbirth that was still inside Pamela that attached both the mother and newborn together. But since part of the afterbirth had followed the baby out at the same time, it was easy to wrap that up and would probably allow for her to hold her baby if she were to be in a crouched standing/sitting position.

"Congratulations, Pamela," she told her, "you have a son."

Being handed her child, Pamela looked at the boy. He was so tiny, and yet, so beautiful. His eyes were the same shade of green that hers were (A/N: I had to use the movie poster of _Jason X_ for his eye color), and his hands slowly reaching out of the blanket. She held him very close to her.

"Thank you, Dante," she thanked the other girl, who bowed her head.

"Hey, did y'all hear about what happened last night?" Some campers in the cafeteria of the camp were conversing with each other.

"No, what happened? All we were doing were partying around." Others had responded.

"That girl that doesn't hang or talk with anybody, the fat girl, had a baby last night while we were partying," some girls had told the guys.

"A baby born on Friday the thirteenth? Oh, that's gonna be bad luck for life."

"Heard it was Dante that played the doctor role for her 'cause she couldn't leave her side."

"Why the heck is it that that Dante chose to try and socialize with that girl and not hang with a man that could ease her worries?"

As they continued to converse, the woman in question, Yue Dante, had came around, got her share of breakfast, as well as Pamela's share, and left quickly, turning heads with little scorn as they couldn't understand why she even chose to help that little wench.

The final week came and it was time to go home for everyone. Most of the campers were looking forward to leaving Crystal Lake and returning to civilization for the new school year, while Pamela wasn't at all. Cradling her son in her arms, she feared what could happen when she returned to Elias with him. Now remembering the few nights of her second trimester that made her wish to come back here, she hated him for hurting her like that. Elias, without any remorse for what he did to her, stripped her of her clothes and had his way with her again and again when she tried to sleep peacefully. Aroused by her beauty, he forced his way into her like a quarterback that had been tackled to the ground by some tacklers, with him being the tackler and she being the quarterback, and sent more of his seed into her already-occupied womb where their child was growing up. Every time she screamed, he hit her whilst he grabbed her breasts as they slowly lactated as he thrust into her faster and harder. She could feel him hit her from the inside as the baby kicked during those nights, and didn't want to experience more nights like that again.

_I have to deal with him as soon as possible,_ she thought as she waited for her bus back to home. _I can't go on living only to be hurt by him…or allow him to harm you._

"Pamela?" She heard Dante's voice call out to her. "Pamela?"

Turning to face the girl, she responded, "Yes?"

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine."

"The baby?"

"He's fine, as well."

"Do you… I mean, would you…like a ride a home with my mother and I? I asked her and she said it was okay."

Thinking about it for a while, she told her that she would like a ride home, deciding that a wait for the bus was just not right.

"So what have you decided to name him?"

"I guess I'll name him after my great-grandfather, Jason."

"Hmm…Jason Voorhees…I like the sound of that. He may grow up to be a great man someday. I hope to see you both in the years to come."

Driving down the dusty road, daydreaming of possible good things that could happen later in the future, Pamela had one major thing on her mind: How to get rid of Elias Voorhees to ensure that little Jason would be spared his wrath that he let out on her. Another thought that was under the primary one was that her son would also serve as a reminder of one person that didn't try to harm her, that being Dante, who delivered Jason for her. So…guessing she'd be the only person to ever even know, whispered her son's full name: Jason Dante Voorhees, and it sounded perfect to her ears.

"Dante?" She asked the girl in the front passenger seat.

"Yes?" Dante responded, looking back to meet her.

"Thank you again."

"Hey. What are friends for?"

Jason then woke up from his nap and started to cry again, signalling that it was meal time again, so Pamel lifted up part of her shirt to expose her left bosom to feed him her milk.

"I definitely get the feeling that he's gonna be great when he grows up," Dante told her. "I should know. His mother's a great person I can definitely appreciate."

Epilogue of Crystal Lake

Many years had gone by. So many that time was practically in the future. A cemetery was located several miles south of Crystal Lake, and there stood a tombstone that held a woman forgotten by all the didn't know her. The grave of Yue Dante, who died five years after the birth of Jason, due to a pointless car accident.

Somebody stood near the grave, setting a rose down upon the soil. A gloved left hand, owned by a large, mysteriously-silent man who hid his face with a hockey mask, with dark green eyes and a machete in his right hand, had set the flower there.

Although, she had become nothing more than a memory of a phantom, it was through this man that she was, at least in some way or another, just like his own mother, remembered by him. Fulfilling what he came here to do, he returned to his own resting place…where he could rest a while, but only until he had to make sure that his territory remained his…and where the head of a burnt fool that thought he could manipulate him by pretending to be someone he held dear could be contained…for an eternity of misery, unable to invade the confines of other people's lives ever again. The future of the rest of this man's fate had been seen as a legend. A dark legend, he was, but a legend still.

"Chee-chee-chee, hah-hah-hah," he went, mimicking the sounds of the environment around him.

End…

What do you think? I think it was good. Please, review it. I'd appreciate an opinion on what was written. For all who think that our favorite hockey mask-wearing fiend is the greatest legend in existence, it'll be like Eminem or Slim Shady: "Yes, I'm Jason Voorhees. Yes, I'm the real Voorhees. Yes, I'm the real Voorhees. Will the real Jason Voorhees, please, put away Freddy? Put away Freddy. Put away Freddy. Yes, I'm the real Jason Voorhees." That wasn't bad, was it?


End file.
